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Down The Rabbit Hole - Part Six
Landing Pad Situated on a peninsula near the mouth of a wide river, this spaceport looks to be a busy one. Dozens of civilian ships are docked at the various landing areas at any given time, and behind a secured area military vessels can be seen docked. Marked walkways lead to a large building that appears to be the only way on or off the landing pad. A large sign over the door reads 'United Systems of Tristifar Customs and Immigration Office' in Terran Standard. Tharsis is underneath himself, checking out the newly installed gravity cannon, with Dr. Franklin helping him with the final check. "I think it looks good to go, doc. All diagnostics are reading normal." Franklin nods. "Graviton emitters are at optimal, and the targeting circuits are properly tuned. With this, I believe you have the key to open your doorway home." Tamila's absently dwaddling around in the 'borrowed' white labcoat, away from being under the ship. She glances towards the avatar and the Doctor, eavesdropping on the conversation apparently. "Light Above," Varal says as he makes his way to the landing pad, "the ride back to Comorro is ready? Some of the security guys sent me this way." Tharsis solidifies himself and reaches out a hand to Dr. Franklin. "You have our thanks for all your assistance, Dr. Franklin. Perhaps fate will allow us to cross paths again." Franklin accepts the hand with a smile. "I shall look forward to that day. All are welcome to visit. I wish you godspeed on your journey. The fleet is in readiness to escort you to the wormhole." Tamila turns her attention away from Tharsis and Franklin, as she looks towards Varal and nods. "Yeah," she replies. "We're hopin' that everythin' gonna work right, else it's gonna be a short trip." Varal nods. "Good." He looks at an object in one hand - a snow globe of the Washington Mall at closer inspection. "This thing is surprisingly entertaining," he states to no one in particular. "An interesting trophy." Tharsis nods. "Farewell, doctor." he says, as Dr. Franklin offers a wave to the rest of the Tharsis group as he slowly makes his way to a waiting hovercar that drives off. He then turns to those gathered. "I don't know about you all, but I'm ready to go home, at least what is home these days." Tamila offers a wave towards as he starts to drive off, before her attention moves towards Varal's snow globe. "Ain't that a cute little thin'? But why's there dandruff?" She has a thoughtful look for a moment, before she glances back towards Tharsis. "Yeah, I'm in the same boat. Hopefully we got everyone, 'cause it'd kinda suck to get halfway home and find out we forgot someone." "Dandruff? That's, um, snow. Not sure how they capture snow inside it, though," Varal says, shaking it around. "Never seen anything like it." He then pulls a sheathed knife and a patch out of another pocket. "But I kind of like the other things I got before we got here better." Tharsis nods. "True enough. I've got everyone tagged, we shouldn't leave anyone behind. I'll meet you guys aboard, and let's see if we can't find our way home again." Norran brushes some debris off of his shoulders as he makes his way onto the landing pad from the river, giving a deep breath as he glances upward at the night's sky before shaking his head and resuming toward the Tharsis with his hands folded behind his back. Bridge The bridge is arranged to permit operation by a single person, but additional stations are available to delegate ship's functions if needed. A main operations console is situated underneath the forward window, with a single seat. On either side of the primary console are two secondary consoles, each with a universal design so that they can accept operations transferred to them from the primary console. Each is equipped with a single seat. Behind the forward section, the bridge is arranged to be comfortable for those who are not involved with flying the ship. A pair of comfortably padded couches line the walls, and the floor has a rectangular area that can raise up to provide a small table if needed. The aft hatchway is situated on the rear wall, between a pair of light fixtures that provide soft lighting for the sitting area. Tamila makes her way up onto the bridge, almost skipping as she goes on her way. Her hands are shoved deeply within the labcoat. "You know, I forgot to buy some chickens," she absently remarks to no one in general. Varal finds someplace to put the snowglobe down on the bridge, then smiles. "Brightens up the place," he says with a broad grin. "You know, we can go back for the chickens, if you want. We in a rush to get out of here?" Tharsis's voice comes through the speakers. "Primary reactor systems online... engine startup commencing." he says as the dull roar of the ships engines once again fills the air. "New Washington Control, this is the Tharsis. We are preparing to depart." The response comes back, "Roger Tharsis you have a clear departure path on vector 128 alpha. Godspeed. The cruisers USS Atlanta and USS New Orleans are waiting in orbit to escort you to the wormhole, they will rendezvous when you break orbit." Tharsis responds, "Acknowledged. Tharsis out." "Nah," Tamila says, shaking her head. "Just a luxary and ain't really needed, 'cause we've got other meats back there. 'Sides I don't thin' Tharsis would like me slaughterin' chickens in him." She drops down at the science console, before buckling herself into the chair. "May Svajone watch over us, and Northey guide our path." She then presses a few buttons on the console. "Prelimary arming check being conducted. Grav-mines unarmed, safeguards are still in place." Varal removes his baldric and slides into a seat, buckling himself in as well. "Oh, well," he says without any real feeling. He leans back, and closes his eyes as if preparing to take a nap. Norran settles into the seat he did previous, leaning back. "Well, hopefully we won't be obliterated and/or thrown into a realm populated by tyrants again, hm? Perhaps I ask for too much," he laments. Tharsis lifts off from the platform and accelerates upwards through the sky, until it thins and he breaks out into the vacuum of space. As he starts to pull away from the planet, two large cruisers pull in along side him, and his comm crackles. "ISS Tharsis, this is Captain Henry of the USS Atlanta. We've got your back. Hopefully this will be a smooth ride but we've got additional forces on standby in case of trouble." Tharsis replies back, "Understood Captain, and thanks for the escort." With the three ships in sync, they leap into faster than light travel. "If all goes well, Norran," Tamila says, as her attention remains fixed to the science console. "We should come out where we left." A few more buttons pressed, and she sits there waiting. However, her hand does slip inside of her jacket when the ship jumps and she brings out a pill and dry swallows it. "What's the worst that can happen, Norran?" Varal says. "At the very least, running into tyrants was a spot of fun, right?" "Oh, you mean right in the middle of that abyssal maw of Shadow? This should be amusing," notes Norran with a slight arch of his brow, though he shakes his head. "If they didn't have any regional weapons and I had my armor, it'd be /great/ fun. Alas." Tharsis travels for approximately 15 minutes before the three ships drop out of FTL. Through the viewscreen, the swirling vortex that is the wormhole is visible, but it appears highly unstable, changing shape, changing size, changing color, changing intensity rapidly. "Definitely doesn't look hospitable.. let's hope we can clean that sucker up. Gravity cannon charging..." he says as he settles into a position near the wormhole, but not in the event horizon. "I'm willing to make due with some fun, but great fun would be better, true," Varal states. "Ah, to stand at the Gates of the Shadow. A valiant last stand, Norran, a song worth singing about if anyone knew. A hero's end, no less. Would that we found that." He watches the events with some consternation. Tamila keeps her attention on the displays at the console she mans, her brow furrowing slightly. "Well, I knew it was unstable, but not this unstable," she utters aloud. "We're goin' straight through the worm hole if we can get it workin', so we could end up completely obliterated or thrown somewhere else. If we can make it stable, we should be right." "If we weren't being driven into it by a bunch of Head-Touched outlanders, I may agree," snickers Norran, shaking his head and leaning back. "So long as you don't sink us, do as you like." Tharsis' proximity alarm begins to sound, and the tactical display shows two vessels approaching at high speed. "Uh oh.. I think we've got company coming." Sure enough, two vessels displaying Lothan flags drop out of FTL. The two Tristifarian vessels immediately move to intercept. "We'll keep these guys busy, Tharsis, hold position." the comm crackles. "roger, I'm not going anywhere except through." he responds, and with a slight jolt, the gravity cannon fires, sending a stream of pulsating purple energy that strikes the center of the vortex. The effect is noticeable, the violent changing of the wormhole's size and shape diminishes somewhat. "Persistent bastards," Varal notes. Tamila frowns a little leaning forward to continue studying the display. "Operative wishes to remark that the current probability of survival with an encounter Lothan vessels, without assistance, is estimated to be around thirty percent in combat situations," she says, as all emotion fades from her face and likewise in her voice. Her accent completely vanishes, too. "Predicted casuality rate in case of recapture of Tharsis is predicted to be one hundred percent. Estimated chance of being recaptured is at twenty percent." "Oh, they can try to board us if they like. In these halls, twenty, thirty men wouldn't be enough. Better to go that way before they sink us," Norran cheerfully offers in reconcilation, although most present probably wouldn't be very comforted with it. "Escape is /precisely/ what I had in mind." Tharsis says, his tactical display showing the other four vessels locked in close combat. "I just hope those guys aren't in over their heads." The gravity cannon is indeed having a major effect on the wormhole. It is beginning to take on a more consistent shape, and the color pattern starts to settle into a predictable pattern. "At 65 percent of resonance and climbing..." Varal leans back in his chair. "Boarding could be fun, if we ambush them," he drawls. "Predicted casualty rate between combatants is currently at thirty percent," Tamila drones. "Operative arming gravitation mines in five, four, three, two, one. Gravitation mines are now armed by Syndicate Operative Romeno and safeguards are now deactivated - recommended weapon firing distance is now at nine hundred units, with a survivability rating of 90 percent." The woman seems to hear Varal and Norran's comments. "Current numbers are insufficent to withstand repeated attempts of boarding. Operative wishes to notee that the bodies could create unneeded trip hazards that could related in broken limbs to the defenders." Norran waves a hand. "Hazards? No, no, you pile them up when you can. More to hide behind, and it has an effect on their comrades. Thirty percent? A complete lack of faith. I'm very insulted." "If those bastards want to get aboard me, they'll have to pry my door out of my cold, dead circuits." Tharsis says. "Resonance at 92 percent... 97... and.. that's... got it! Resonance achieved. Harmonic amplication at 350 percent, worm hole is stable.. but it won't last long. While those guys are keeping those guys busy, we're making a run for it. Hold on tight!" he says as his throttle slams into full, and he begins to accelerate towards the wormhole. "She doesn't know us well, Norran, so obviously she can't guess terribly accurately at our capabilities," Varal responds. "Though, one wonders where those numbers come from. She sounds dreadfully like a computer-thing, which is somewhat frightening." "I'd prefer she sounded like that all the time, far easier to understand," retorts the Lomasa. "Non-Syndicate civilians Norran and Varal, that is a negative. Predicted result was for combatants already engaged in combat," notes Tamila in that same accentless and emotionless voice. "Operative will provide personalised survival rates if the ship is boarded." "Tam.. you're starting to freak me out. What's going on?" Tharsis asks. "We'll be reaching the worm hole in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!" The ship is suddenly enveloped by the wormhole. The gravity cannon remains active, making this trip through the wormhole much smoother than the last trip. As they begin the journey through, however, a blip appears behind them, and he switches to his aft view. "Uh oh.. one of those Lothan bastards came in behind us!" Varal frowns, turning to look over his shoulder. It doesn't do him any good to see the Lothan ship. There's a bulkhead there. "They want a fight? What options do we have?" "Us sitting here, I'd imagine," sighs Norran. "Operative has informed Tharsis in the past, that she is a Syndicate Operative," Tamila says, eyes still firmly fixed on the screen in front of her. "Grav-mines are under your control, Tharsis. Armed with safe guards removed." "This is going to be one hell of a bang." Tharsis says. His engine readouts move past the red line as he pours emergency power into them. This gives him a boost of speed that lets him pull ahead of the ship. "Exit coming up... 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... mine launched! 2... 1..." The ship bursts out of the wormhole just as the grav-mine detonates. The sudden explosion of gravity waves in the wormhole's entrance causes severe disruptions. Just as the Lothan ship is about to exit, the hole collapses, snapping the ship clean in half. The severly wounded vessel drifts for only a few seconds before it vanishes in a massive explosion, leaving nothing but a slowly expanding field of debris. "I think... that was a successful test..." he mutters. "Oh. Well," Varal states. "That takes care of that. Think there's anything to salvage?" "I think leaving would be a better idea at this juncture," answers Norran. Tamila twists slightly to oneside, a hand going down towards the sickbag on the chair. She raises it up to her mouth, and well, it doesn't need to be said what happens next. She takes a few deep breaths, and closes her eyes. "I hate space travel, I hate space. Stupid stomach," she mutters, slipping back to her natural accent. Tharsis slowly eases off the throttle, focusing the viewscreen on the remains of the Lothan vessel. "Not much left but tiny bits..." Tharsis says. "The Grav-mine must have severely weakened it... getting snapped in half by the wormhole was only the finishing touch." he says. "Checking readings... quantum signatures indicate that we're back in Hiverspace... time coordinates match so we haven't shot forward or back either. Thank goodness for that." he says. "I'm setting course for the last known location of Comorro... let's hope that fat whale is still there." Tamila takes a few moment to regain her composure, before folding the bag shut. "Let's hope she's there," she says in agreement to Tharsis. "Be pretty bad if we got back and she weren't 'round." Tharsis jumps into FTL as soon as he's clear of the remains of the Lothan ship. "Be good to be home, and in at least some familiar territory, but I gotta admit, I'd like to visit the Tristifarians again. They were a pretty nice bunch." "I don't thin' the war will last long," Tamila remarks to Tharsis. "They do have one hell of a trump card up their sleeve. If they get the first strike. Maybe the Lothan empire will fall." "If it does, it'll have been a long time coming from what I understood. That Nongtu fellow was a grade A bastard." Tharsis says. "I'm surprised he hasn't been assassinated," says the TKer with a slow nod. "If there's anyone that deserves to get scragged, it's that scummer lovin' arsehole. I just wish I could see it happen." "Sounds like that son of the Meiyo emperor made a good run at it.. poor kid." Tharsis says. "Typical tyrant. I bet he sleeps with a pistol under his pillow and his guards surround that room thick as fleas." "I wouldn't mind helping," Varal chimes in from his seat. "He has it coming." Tamila looks back towards Varal and nods. "It would be nice," she agrees. "Just to see the look on his face as he bleeds slowly out." A quiet laugh follows. "I thin' you're right, Thar. Everyone was his enemy." "Maybe someday, if we can re-open a pathway there, we could pay a visit and this time be more prepared." Tharsis says. "Like fully armed and ready to kick ass." "It would be nice to go back and help them if at all possible," Varal replies. "Though, I find my position annoying ineffective in doing anything of real consequence these days." "Thar, I always thought you were a nice, pacifist ship," Tamila says with a grin. "Seems like you've got a blood thirsty streak to you. I like that." She turns her head back towards Varal. "Who knows, if we can open up a permanent and stable wormhole, you could be quite an ambassidor." "Heh.. I guess sometimes I can be. If I'm pushed too far." Tharsis says. "Me, an ambassador?" Varal says skeptically. "I think there are probably several more qualified people that can do that instead of me." Tamila waves her hand dismissively. "What? The ones that kneel down? If I had to pick, it'd be you or Norran," she remarks. "Couldn't thin' of better people. 'Sides, it could cut into my profits if I volunteered myself." She digs a hand into her vest, before pulling out an envelope, which is then thrown towards Varal. "Your payment, as promised." Then her attention returns towards the hull of Tharsis. "No, I thin' it's part of you. A twisted side, as the hero types would call it. Everyone has one, and it's a useful thin' to use." Varal is quick to make the envelope disappear. "Turned out to be a bit more than getting coffee," he says with a laugh. "Varal is likely not your choice to be an ambassador. He's always been a guardsman, first and foremost, and that's as far as his ambitions ever reached. The same as I was, I suppose, before I was pulled in the other direction," grins Norran, "Though, so long as they let me see this 'ocean' of theirs I'd gladly go back for the air and the sky." "What do you know.. she's still nearby." Tharsis says as Comorro appears in the distance. Heading towards her, he lines up to head into her landing bay. Entering slowly into the bay, he settles into his old spot. "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." he says as his engines power down. >> Outside the Ship: Docking Hub - Comorro Station >> Outside the Ship: - Comorro Station Comorro Station isn't exactly a station. It doesn't remain in any one place for a significant span of time. It is, in all accuracy, a massive starship - incapable of atmospheric flight - that has been roaming the stars on a voyage that some say has lasted for more than 90-million years. The vessel is a Yaralu, a sentient spacefaring vessel. Her true full name cannot be spoken in a single day, but is shortened for convenience to Comorro. Several epochs ago, after her final era of fertility ended, she converted the gray-green ribbed chamber of her womb into a docking hub for smaller Yaralu and non-organic vessels. She made it known to the denizens of Hiverspace that she would serve as a neutral outpost for traders and diplomats. Use of energy and projectile weapons is prohibited aboard Comorro. Violators will be absorbed into the vessel's nutrient replenishment matrix. She is capable of monitoring almost all chambers within the station for illegal weapons, but some areas - such as the Forgotten Quarter - are lost to her neural pathways and sensory organs. A makeshift ramp has been built about thirty feet from Zero Gravitas' airlock from a crate and a light armor plate, with no apparent purpose. "Norran, people can take new directions. You tribals ain't seemin' to realise this, but this is a new start for everyone," Tamila points out. "Sure, we've got scary technology, but you'll get the han' of it in time." She unbuckles herself from the chair. "I don't care what problems you two had in the past, but you two would make a good team." "Guardsman, yes," Varal states. "Although, Alieron's stupidity forced me to take a slightly more politically proactive role. Celeste, as well." He sighs. "I guess you could have called me a guardsman politician. Protecting the family." Tamila gets a grin, and a very loud chuckle. "You misunderstand. It's not a matter of would. Norran and I /make/ a good team. Shadows, woman, there were no two people in Fastheld who could stand against us." "Strangely enough, Varal is likely the only nobleman in all of Fastheld I could ever call a 'friend'. Perhaps he's the only one who's foolish enough to tolerate me, I know not. I even tried to steal his fiance! Ah, such fun times," chuckles the Lomasa with mirth, giving a grin as he rises to his feet. "I can think of fewer more able combatants to stand at my side, even if he cheats a bit." Tamila slowly stands up herself, straightening out her clothing. "Just thought you two were actually hostile 'wards each other," she admits. "If there is a need for an ambassidor, perhaps both of you would be best?" She shrugs, before adjusting her own longsword. "'Sides, I don't thin' he'd be cheatin'. More of makin' a creative tactical move." "Oh, it's just banter," Varal states, rising from his seat. "And sharing a title would just be...awkward. At best." He looks towards Norran with amused distaste. "And it's not cheating. It's playing towards my strengths." "Oh, yes, /creative/. Why, as much as I'd like to be able to...shoot lightning out of my ass or whatever it is you do, I'd hardly call it /creative/," retorts Norran with a wide grin, brushing off his sides as he turns to leave. "There are far better ambassadors, I'm certain. The only resources I've had to allocate were livestock and land, I'm not quite familiar enough to consider such a thing." "Can't be that much different," Tamila remarks. "Learn as you go." She then looks between Norran as he starts to depart and then towards Varal and then she shrugs. Varal prepares to head off the bridge as well. He decides to leave the snowglobe. "For all we know, we might be able," he says simply. "But, Norran and I were always much more content as soldiers." Category:Logs